Only Cus It's Your Birthday
by emrys-knight
Summary: They moved swiftly through the middle-eastern valleys. Clay started down the mountainside to catch up with the team before seeing some more threats up the way that the team couldn't see. The whole mission had been exhausting, but they'd gotten the information on the guy they were looking for. (CERBERUS IS IN IT, OFC!)


I would like to shout out helloyesimhere, because I used an idea from one of her fics called "How to Let Mysterious Scientists and Substances Ruin Your Day" which was recommended to me by wolfypuppypiles ( *heart eyes* ) and I've read it a good 10 to 20 times, by now. I enjoyed writing this and hope y'all like reading it!

"Yeah, you got a hostile at three o'clock," Clay shot the man down, a bullet straight between the eyes from a considerable distance, laughing at the team's loss of words.

"Well, alrighty, then, birthday boy." Sonny let the words out, against his wishes.

"Bravo one for TOC. Starsky. Moving to Hutch." Jason moved through the crunching dry grass. The team all started to go for Hutch or, better yet: Exfil. They moved swiftly through the middle-eastern valleys. Clay started down the mountainside to catch up with the team before seeing some more threats up the way that the team couldn't see. The whole mission had been exhausting, but they'd gotten the information on the guy they were looking for. It felt pretty useless, the intel, but at least he'd get some nice, cold beer when he got back. That's what really got him through the missions, sometimes. It wasn't the constant shade from Sonny or the jokes the team threw around. Petting Cerberus was always nice, though, falling asleep on his stomach.

"Bravo Six to TOC, we have a problem." He snapped out of it, seeing the terrorists making their way towards his team.

No answer. He grunted at the lack of attention he was getting. This wasn't a grocery list reading, dammit, this was his team in imminent danger!

"Repeat: Bravo Six to TOC."

Silence. Fine. The communications between the team and TOC were screwed up. The team should know.

"Guys, I think we have a problem. TOC isn't answering."

Nothing. The team was joking, surely. They heard him, right? He tried again and again, finally realizing what he had to do, though, it wasn't the ideal situation.

:::::::

"What do you mean?" Ray brought his hand up to his ear. "Bravo two for TOC."

No answer.

"Dammit, we're flyin' blind, y'all." Sonny stepped in.

"It's fine, we're going to exfil, anyway; just keep an eye out." Ray continued on with the rest of the team as they moved forward. "Spenser, what's your ETA?"

Static.

"Repeat: Bravo Two to Bravo Six. What's your ETA?"

When there was no response, Ray turned around, bringing his arms all the way up and dropping them to his sides, as a "Dude?!" to the young SEAL. He got exactly that in response, the two finally seeing that comms for the whole team were compromised.

:::::::

"Guys?" Clay brought his hand up to his ear, letting his long gun lower, keeping a hold on it with his free hand. The effort was useless and he knew it, but, he had to try. These hostiles were getting closer. Dangerously close.

Silence. The only sound he could hear was the nature crunching under his boots and the pinging of the metal hooks on his belt buckle. He continued on, running towards the team. He wanted to shout, to get their attention. He wanted to let them know they were about to run into a group of terrorists but he couldn't. He'd give Bravo's location away and he wasn't about to do that to them. He'd never do that. He settled for shooting at the bad guys, only alerting them of his location. They changed their path, avoiding Bravo altogether.

He made his shots as calculated and accurate as he could in his state of controlled panic- but panic nonetheless. He managed to take out as many guys as he could, ridding himself of half of the problem. The terrorists came so fast. He kept shooting as they found their way up the mountain to him. He reloaded, bringing a few more down before he was on the ground with a grinding broken rib and a torso which was absolutely going to have a large multicolor bruise painted across it in an hour or two.

He struggled to get his breathing in order as he tried to shoot at the terrorists, bullets flying past them, hitting only a few.

One of them brought his foot to Clay's face, bringing the world to a halt, blackness swallowing him up as they removed his gear to drag his body to their desired location.

:::::::

Muffled gunfire was heard up the mountain, gaining the majority of Bravo's attention. The team ducked, looking up the mountainside where Clay was supposed to be. "The hell?" Ray's eyes followed the aim the younger SEAL seemed to be taking and spotted some minor reflections. Any operative short of a SEAL might have missed it. He nudged Jason's shoulder, pointing out Clay's situation as the hostiles got closer and closer to their teammate.

"Our guns won't shoot that far, dammit," Brock brought his gun up, doing his best to assist. Before he could make a shot, Jason stopped him. "What? We can't just-"

"Stop. It sounds dark but he did this to keep them from getting to us. We gotta get to exfil."

"We can't leave him, Jason," Trent stepped in, arms crossed. His eyes darted between Hayes and their young operative, desperately wanting to help.

"We _have_ to. He's a soldier for the US, they'll want to get information then kill him. He's a stubborn kid, he won't give the information up. We'll get back to TOC, figure out what's going on and find Spenser. We move fast, and we may save him before they can do anything," Jason started towards the opposite mountainside, the team reluctantly following behind. They all, one by one, took a quick glance back, shoving down the instinct to run back and help.

The walk to the chopper was brutal. Small firefights here and there, the burning feeling in their souls making them want to go back and find Clay, the heat beating down on them from the sun.

"Maybe they'll send him back. He'll annoy 'em to death," Sonny laughed. He adjusted his grip on his gun. "I mean, sometimes I wanna send the kid back to whatever hell hole he came out of."

Bravo, increasing by rank, got into the helo, sitting in their usual spots.

"Ready to roll," Jason's tone was blank, devoid of emotion, while, at the same time, full of it. He felt it all, creating a throbbing headache. There was the happiness at the fact they'd gotten, mostly, to safety. The sadness that they'd had to leave Clay behind. The anger that these men would do horrible things to their teammate. The confusion as to why any of it made sense… He hated all of it. He hated that he was even slightly happy they'd gotten away. How could he be when Clay was going to suffer if he hadn't already?

Jason's facial expressions were like an ultrasound, showing everything going on inside. Ray inched closer to his friend, looking him in the eyes, regardless of the fact they seemed to be empty, hyperfixated on a random point on the pilot's seat in front of him. "Ay, man, it's gonna be okay. Clay's gonna be fine."

"Like Nate was fine?"

"I-" Ray rubbed a tired hand over his eyes. "That was different."

"Funny how everyone says that."

"Funny how it's true," Ray regretted firing back like that, but it needed to be said. Jason knew it, nodding in surrender to the truth, though it wasn't what he wanted to hear. He would have protested, said something to fight back but what good would it have done? Ray was right, anyway, Clay was still taken… Everything seemed pointless.

:::::::

"Who are you looking for?!" The terrorist leader screamed into Clay's face, getting no response. The SEAL looked him dead in the eyes, not letting a single word out. The man repeated the question before striking Clay across the face, eliciting a slight groan along with a brand spanking new throbbing black eye. With every pump his heart sent throughout his body, he wanted to escape. The beating was quick, yet, somehow controlled. SERE really did a number on him, he guessed.

The men said something in Arabic but the sounds were muffled and they spoke far too fast for him to understand so he settled for reading lips. "Bring… for him… the machine"? What was "The machine"?

A large man stepped into the room, shoulders broad and chest puffed. Okay, so "The Machine" was a who. Not a what. Though, given how ugly the man was… He might have actually been a what. He stood there with a belt wrapped around his waist stocked with tools for God-knows-what. The array of large knives, guns, small knives, needles, etc. brought a chill down Clay's spine. It was almost laughable, the chill. It was so damn hot in that room. All he wanted was a drink of water. Just a sip. All he wanted was a sip. A drop on his tongue, if that's all he could have. Something.

"Hello, _Navy SEAL_." The man's tone was a mockery of the soldier. It produced a small flame in his chest, much like a sparked match.

"Finally. A change of pace." Clay spoke for the first time in however long he'd been there. He didn't know and he was half sure the men holding him didn't know, either.

"You won't be so smug when we get the information from you and kill your team when they try to rescue you." The man's voice was stern. Stable. Thick in accent and deep as the ocean. The words fanned the flame inside of Clay.

"Oh, I'm always smug. I've been told it's a flaw. Y'all don't seem to have a grasp on yours, but, if you want me to list them, I'll gladly do it."

"Hmm." The terrorist took his belt off, laying it across the long table to the right of Clay, avoiding the SEAL's chains. The man relished in the sight of the collar, the wrist and ankle restraints. He listened to the sounds of the chiming chains as if it were the best song he'd ever heard in his life, a cinematic bridge or chorus.

"Really? I give you a comeback that good and all I get is 'hmm'?" Clay laughed at the man, a facade covering up his fear. His eyes betrayed him, the bastards, showing it- the fear rampaging through him. The flame remained, though, giving him but a small spark of hope. Sure, he threatened to kill the rest of Bravo, but, those were the best operatives he'd ever seen. There was no way these idiots would be able to kill them. No way in Hell.

The burning wasn't a new experience. Clay slowly looked at the large knife in his stomach. He wasn't surprised at the knife or the pain. It didn't make it hurt any less. The pain was still there, stomping around his nerves, lighting them up like a Christmas tree. He bit back a groan as his body protested the intrusion. He wanted to struggle in his restraints, but he knew it wouldn't do him any good. It'd only make his knife wound hurt worse and his chains dig into his skin. Come on, Bravo, where are you?!

"You tell me now: Who are you looking for?"

Clay remained silent, staring defiantly at his tormentor, a twitch in his eye every now and then with the pain the knife brought.

"Okay." The man brought a needle up to Clay's neck, not yet injecting it into the skin. "I do not know what his will do. I only know it will not be nice."

Clay remained defiant, despite the raging fear. The Hell kind of drug was this? Or was it even a drug at all? What if it was just water and the guy was just trying to scare him into saying something? In any other situation, he'd have laughed at the thought. These guys didn't make empty threats. They put their money where their mouths were. That's what made them so powerful. Everyone knew that.

"Suit yourself." The man sent the needle into Clay's neck, injecting the drug inside of his bloodstream. He could feel the cold flow through his veins, taking over his senses. Everything became so bright and loud before, much like a switch being flipped, everything fell dark and silent. No noise came to his ears along with the lack of sight registering through his eyes. It was a brand new, indescribable Hell.

He, luckily, still knew where he was. That was, until he felt his restraints being undone and the men drag him away. He kicked and swung his fists as best he could as the terrorists kept their tight grip on his underarms. He blinked his eyes rapidly, taking in as deep of breaths as he could. Nothing came to him. The change of material under him sent him into a deeper panic, the dirt-sand mixture from the floor to the rough, dry grass. He fought in their holds, failing to release himself.

:::::::

"What happened?!" Jason burst through the front door of TOC, screaming as loud as he could. His frustration, much to everyone's distaste.

"Hayes!" Blackburn's tone calmed the SEAL, slightly. "Communications failed, it happens. Rarely, sure, but it does. You know that."'

"Where's Spenser?" Davis stepped out from behind the fold up desk.

"We had to leave him." Brock spoke up, quickly regretting it.

"You what?" Blackburn took his hands out of his pockets, crossing his arms.

"He was coming down the mountain to rejoin and I guess he saw a group of hostiles so he shot at 'em and they went after him." Sonny plopped in a chair, crossing his arms with a huff of air through his nose in frustration.

"The drone failed to communicate. We were going to send another but you were already on the chopper when we were about to." Davis typed away on her keyboard of her laptop, bringing another drone into the air. "I've got another one up. It shouldn't be long until we get a location on Clay."

"Hurry up," Trent sat down next to Sonny, interlocking his fingers and setting his hands on the desk.

"Okay I'm where you were when the comms went down. It looks like there- No, wait. I got it. It looks like a small house about a quarter of a mile from where Spenser was on the mountain. We just can't- I found him! Guys, I found him."

"Alright," Blackburn quickly started walking around the desk to stand behind Davis. "Go get him. You'll get your new comms at the helipad."

"Let's go!" Jason and the rest of the team ran out of the building for the helipad, still in their gear, having not taken it off. They were going to get their man.

:::::::

The grips were released from Clay's shoulders, dropping him to the ground. The men shouted to each other, hands waving. Clay tried to crawl away, getting pulled back by his pant legs as his shirt was gone. The men beat on him with sticks they'd found on the walk, turning his painful sunburn white, then fade back to a burning red. He cried out, balling his fists and digging them into the dirt.

"Look what you have done!" The leader screamed in Arabic.

"How was I supposed to know he would lose his senses?!" The underling was furious at the comment. "I only got the drug I was told to!"

"Well you were wrong!"

"It does not matter, anymore. Look at him," The terrorists looked at him, feeling the ground around him, trying to get at least a little bit of an idea as to where he was. No luck. "He is afraid!"

"That is not the point!"

The men continued to argue, not hearing the SEALs sneaking up around them. They took their shots, killing them all. They gently grabbed Clay, taking note of his severe sunburn. "We need to get him back to medical, fast. That could be a problem." Derek looked at the young SEAL's burns, flinching, falling backwards when he started to fight them, trying to run away.

"The Hell? Clay!" Ray called out as their teammate fled, stumbling over literally everything.

"Spenser!" Sonny ran after the soldier, pinning him to the ground after turning him. The SEAL cried out as his burn was rubbed against the rough grass below him. He fought the unsolicited hold, bringing his fists to anything he could, hitting Sonny in the sides. The older soldier laughed as the punches were weak.

Ray leaned a little heavier on his haunches next to the two. He spoke to Clay once more, hoping the problem wasn't what he thought it was. "Spenser." No answer. "Damn. Kid can't hear us."

"Can't see us, either." Sonny pointed out. "Either he's still pissed about the fish in his bed, last week, or he can't hear or see us."

"Now what do we do?" Brock stepped in.

"Get him back to medical, see what they can do." Jason brought a hand to his ear. "Bravo One to TOC. Bravo Six is in custody but he's messed up. He can't hear or see us."

"TOC to Bravo One," Davis responded, "There anything Bravo Five can do?"

"Kid's got a really bad sunburn. He can work on that, but he said he's not sure he can do anything else." Ray answered while Jason froze, staring at the young SEAL. The whole team eyed him, thinking of how to help him without hurting him.

"Can you get him back to the chopper?" Davis took a look at their surroundings, seeing it was clear.

"Can you get the chopper to us?" Jason knelt down next to Clay, Sonny and Ray. "We'd have to restrain him and I really don't wanna do that if we can avoid it."

Davis tapped on her keyboard, audible through the comms. "Yeah, I think I can swing it." It wasn't long before the blades of the aircraft were made known as it slowly descended next to them. The air was painful against Clay's back, making him moan in pain.

Once they all managed to get in the aircraft, they laid Clay on the cold metal flooring. When he felt the new stimuli, he panicked, kicking out, waving his fists everywhere, trying to sit up, get out. "Hold him down!" Derek waved his hands over Clay, trying to avoid the panicked movements, as he didn't want the burn relief jelly to fly out of the helicopter.

Ray, Sonny and Jason held the young SEAL down, making him panic even more. Derek carefully started to apply the jelly. It stung, making Clay struggle even more, groaning against the pain. "I'm not telling you anything!" When the burn started to cool, he relaxed a little, jerking his head back, slightly. "What? What're you doing to me?!" He fought even more, frustrating his team.

"We're sitting here helping the kid and he's fighting us!" Sonny yelled over the chopping of the helicopter blades.

"He thinks he's still with the enemy, Quinn. He doesn't know." Brock adjusted his position.

"Yeah, well…" Sonny grumbled something indecipherable under his breath.

:::::::

"Rise and shine, princess." Sonny laughed as Clay's brow furrowed. He blinked them open, seeing the horror… _The horror_! "Oh no…"

"What?" Sonny stepped back, heart racing as he saw the panic on Clay's face. "You can hear but… you still can't see?"

"I can see but…"

"Yeah?"

"It's so ugly!" He brushed a dramatic back hand over his forehead, pointing at Sonny.

"You little dick. I'll let you have that one but only cus it's your birthday."

"That's right! It's his birthday!" Davis brought in a really crappy looking chocolate cake, obviously made by a drunk Bravo.

Cerberus jumped on the bed, licking every part of Clay he could get to. Clay laughed, petting the pooch as best he could, wincing as he did so, but he kept going. No sunburn was going to keep him from giving Cerberus all the belly rubs he deserved.

"You found me."

"Yeah and you fought us for every minute of it." Ray sat in the couch on the opposite side of the room.

"Oh… Well… Not my fault?"

"Right." Jason smiled cutting the- honestly it's a really crappy cake, the icing looks like a toddler did it, geez- cake.

"Thanks, guys. Really."

"No, none of that emotional crap. Let's eat!" Sonny took his plate from Jason, sitting down in the recliner next to the bed. The team ate their cake and pet the SEAL dog and joked about so many things. Especially how funny Clay's joke was, having just woken up, and all.

That team was his family. They'd have ups and downs but they'd always stick together. No matter what. It… it actually sounded like marriage… No, that's nasty. So… So nasty...


End file.
